


The Further Adventures of Aiden Teague

by kitkat6020



Category: Blood and Chocolate - All Media Types, Blood and Chocolate - Annette Curtis Klause
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat6020/pseuds/kitkat6020
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone familiar with Blood and Chocolate knows that the beautiful and tormented Vivian Gandillon went on to her happily ever after with her beloved Gabriel. But what of Aiden, her errant lover/would be killer? Read on...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

  _Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

  
One dark and sinister midnight, Aiden Teague’s entire world was shattered. In one fell swoop, he learned that there were monsters in the world, that they liked killing people, generally, and that at least one of them wanted to kill him, specifically. The tall, terrifying man/wolf had snarled at him, eyes still red with hell’s fire. Its threat had chilled him to his very soul, a cold shiver running up his spine and a warm trickle down his leg. He’d run home that night, dignity forgotten in the overwhelming desire to stay alive.

Weeks passed, months even. Aiden barely left his room. His parents could not understand this sudden change, and the switch to haranguing him to go out was a radical change from the usual pestering him to stay home. His father even found himself in the awkward position of supporting Aiden’s friendship with the Amoeba, otherwise known as, “those damned hooligans.” Nothing helped; Aiden withdrew from the world, and after the first six months, everyone despaired of his ever coming back.

Then, one March day, a thick envelope arrived from La Mesa University, a small school in the middle of the desert southwest. Unbeknownst to all, Aiden Teague had concocted a scheme. He’d emerged from the fog of his all-consuming terror and for almost the first time in his life, he’d felt a purpose. He began paying attention in class, he stopped doodling in his notebook margins, and he started getting decent grades. He’d wake up every morning, dress, eat, get to school with homework finished and exams prepared for. Then, when free time came to him, he would retreat to the internet and search for colleges that were as far away from tall trees and dark forests as was possible.

He found several. La Mesa was the first to respond.

Aiden Teague eyed the envelope with grim satisfaction, then walked downstairs to tell his parents the news.

Aiden Teague was going to college.

  


 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

La Mesa, New Mexico is a bright, barren town leftover from a time of gunfights and cattle wrangling. Its streets are dusty and straight, and only bustling on the busiest of days. It’s hot, burning with the kind of heat that stuns you with its absoluteness. It’s not green there; the soil laughs at grass, and it rains about as often as it snows.

Aiden grinned as he drove through. It’s the kind of town that’s never seen a wolf, the kind of place that could never hide a monster.

The light ahead turned green, and he turned the Taurus left, heading for campus. The Bug hadn’t sold for much, but that and his savings had helped him make a down payment on the sedan, now stuffed with everything he owned. It was an upgrade. The Taurus started every time, didn’t mysteriously short out its speakers, and most importantly, it didn’t remind him of days gone by.

He pulled in front of Schmitt Hall, one of a sprawling complex of dorms that would be his home for the next year. It was midday, and a decent number of people were busy moving in too, but Aiden signed in and got his key quickly enough. Room 412, fourth floor, corner. Aiden shouldered his backpack and headed for the stairs, ignoring the line for the elevators. At the top, he headed down the hall, slickly avoiding the dark-haired, ominously energetic RA and noting the location of the bathrooms. At the end of the hall, overlooking the dry expanse of sidewalks and sun-seared buildings, was room 412. Aiden slipped his key into the lock and turned it.

The room was tiny, or maybe it just looked that way because it was already packed with belongings that weren’t his. There was a couch against one wall and a T.V./entertainment center against the other. One bed was already decked with a black comforter and sheets, and the desk next to it was covered with a laptop and textbooks. The other bed was shoved into the corner, lofted to eye level, and bare. A desk and dresser were crammed underneath, and the lack of space made it clear that there was where they would stay.

Aiden tossed his bag on the bed. Chuck, his roommate, had obviously taken it upon himself to decorate. He surveyed his surroundings and, sighing, went back outside to carry up his things.

Three trips and one moved car later, Aiden walked through the door, ready to start unpacking, but a darkly tanned, polo wearing body was in the way.

“Umm, excuse me?”

The boy turned and looked at him, then slid out of the way. Aiden walked past to deposit the last of his things on his desk. “So, you’re Chuck?”

The boy nodded, “Call me Charles. And you’re Aiden?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Aiden went to shake Charles’ hand. “Nice to meet you.” Charles didn’t move. Aiden paused, surprised.

Charles eyed himself in the closet mirror. He was shorter than Aiden, with styled blonde hair and brown eyes. He obviously liked what he saw. “Anyway, since you’re here, I suppose we should discuss arrangements.”

“Arrangements?”

Charles nudged a wayward strand of hair back into place. “Our living situation. I want things here to be pleasant.”

Aiden shrugged, turned back to his bed, “Okay. How do you define ‘pleasant’?”

“Quiet. Orderly. Dark after midnight. I expect to get at least seven hours of sleep a night, so you’ll have to go elsewhere if you want to stay awake; you understand.”

Aiden stopped to look at the boy. He smirked slyly, “And I suppose you’ll want me to fetch your slippers for you too.”

Charles glanced over at him, “Your sarcasm is unwarranted. I only ask for a certain level of mutual respect and consideration. If you find that unreasonable, then that’s your problem, not mine.”

Aiden stared at him for a second, then shook his head. “Fine. Whatever; it was a joke.” He went back to his things, determined to ignore Charles and his domineering attitude.

“Right. We can discuss this more later. There’s a preliminary meeting of the Young Republicans and I would like to be there early.”

Aiden didn’t even bother to look up, “Have fun.”

“I plan on it. Oh, and the TV is for mutual use, but the food in the fridge is mine.” He was out the door before Aiden could respond, but the paint on the walls got an earful.

Half an hour later, his dresser was packed, his laptop was on, and his temper had cooled. He knew he’d been acting like a dick, but he was also sure that Charles had been too. It didn’t matter much. The housing contract stipulated that no roommate changes could be made for at least a month, so Aiden would have to learn to either like the guy or hide his loathing. It was just kind of odd. Aiden had talked to Charles a couple months ago when he’d gotten his room assignment. He’d sounded like an alright guy; reasonably laid back, not too stuck on the rules. He’d even asked Aiden to call him Chuck. What had happened?

Aiden sighed and closed his laptop. Maybe he was just in a shitty mood. Charles was probably a good dude, or he was probably bearable, at least after a shower and a decent night’s sleep. He resolved to give him another chance when someone knocked on the door. Aiden walked over and opened it to find the dark-haired RA he’d dodged earlier.

“Hi, you’re Aiden Teague, right?”

Aiden nodded, “Yeah?”

The RA smiled, “Hi, I’m Khalid; I’m going to be your RA this semester.” He extended a hand, and Aiden shook it.

“Hi, Khalid.”

“Anyway, I’m here to drop off some stuff,” he handed Aiden some flyers and some forms. “That top one is your check-in form. You need to fill that out, sign and date it and return it to me by Monday. The next ones are information about all of the campus move-in activities. We’ve got free movies, tours, an activities fair, all sorts of stuff.”

Aiden thumbed through the pages, “Cool.”

“Yeah. So, go out, have fun, and if you have any questions, find me.” Khalid was about to walk away when Aiden stopped him

“Hey, quick question.”

Khalid nodded, “Shoot.”

“Where’s the bookstore?”

“There’s a map in there somewhere,” he said, pointing toward the papers in Aiden’s hand, “It’s in the basement of the Student Center.”

Aiden fished it out. “Awesome, thanks.”

“Anytime.” Khalid walked away and Aiden headed inside to grab his class schedule, wallet and keys. He’d explore campus a bit and, hopefully, he’d forget about Charles.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

La Mesa University is a relatively small college. At under five-thousand students, it’s hardly competitive. This fact worked well for Aiden, considering his less than impressive SAT scores and only marginally better GPA. He’d been planning on heading for community college or maybe even straight out into the real world after high-school, but that would have left him in Maryland. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it there, it was just that the events of the previous summer had somewhat soured him on his home state. After all, when an angry, brutally strong man-beast threatens your life, do you stay where he knows you live?

For Aiden, the answer had been clear. Leave. That impulse is what had brought him to La Mesa; to the hot, arid valley in the Chihuahuan desert miles away from everything he’d ever been familiar with. Here, where the population was well over half Latino, where his German would be worthless; here was where he’d decided to settle.

The price of safety, he thought grimly. He walked across campus, quickly deciding it was too damned hot to be outside for long. The Student Center was right in the middle of everything, a large, imposing building with towering columns and wide steps. He walked inside and almost gasped at the shock of cold air. If there was one thing the University didn’t skimp on, it was the AC.

Silently deciding that his tuition money was being well-spent, Aiden headed down the curving tile steps to the University Bookstore. The place was packed, buzzing with a chaotic energy that would have suited a riot. Students were queued for what looked like a mile behind a row of harried cashiers, working as fast as they could to keep the mob from revolting entirely. Aiden surveyed the horde and, squaring his shoulders, went for it.

He had to elbow his way through some sorority sisters, and was almost knocked over by a running nerd, but he got in. Racks of memorabilia and shirts emblazoned with school spirit camouflaged row after row of bookshelves. Aiden pulled out his class schedule and read the first entry; History 100, Prehistory to 1700’s. He craned his neck to see above the mass and found a sign for the history section six rows back. Cautiously, he made his way through the store, watching for assailants from all sides. Finally, at the history section, looking at his class’ text and marveling at the price, he reached for the last copy when somebody else snatched it from the shelf.

Aiden looked up to see a girl, an upperclassman for sure, thick, black braids caught up in a ponytail and large, brown eyes staring at him from behind square black frames.

“I’m so sorry. Do you need this too?”

Aiden straightened up, shaking his head, “Nah. Don’t worry about it. Take it.”

The girl shook her head, contrite, “No, please, you take it. I shouldn’t have just grabbed it like that-“

Aiden interrupted her, “No. It’s okay. You keep it; I can wait until they get more.”

“Are you sure?”

Aiden nodded, “Positive. Worst comes to worst, I use Wikipedia.” The girl chuckled, and Aiden laughed with her.

“I’m Abiah.”

“Aiden.”

She smiled, “Hi Aiden. I guess I’ll be seeing you in class then?”

“See you then.”

She waved and walked away, and Aiden felt lighter somehow, like the world didn’t suck quite so much. He grinned to himself and went back to his class list.

Aiden walked out of the bookstore several hundred dollars lighter and several textbooks heavier. He weighed his Calculus textbook in his hand and wondered if he’d paid by the ounce. He hefted the bag into his arms and headed for Schmitt, passing several clumps of students and one rather embarrassing farewell scene.

It was awful. The kid was sobbing into his mother’s arms, nose running, eyes red. Aiden was suddenly grateful that he’d left his parents in Maryland. His father had taken his departure stoically enough, but his mom had gotten all high-pitched and teary. Ashley, at least, had looked happy. She’d been ecstatic at the thought of getting the upstairs bathroom all to herself.

Aiden sighed and wiped away the sweat forming on his brow. He hurried toward his dorm and its icy, air-conditioned refuge.

On the fourth floor, after a quick hello to Khalid, Aiden neared his door and heard raised voices.

“-the Hell is wrong with you Chuck?”

“I’ve told you several times now, call me Charles.”

“No! Fuck you! I’ve known you for six fucking years, and you’ve been Chuck since the day I met you!”

“Is it so unreasonable that I ask you to call me Charles?”

“Yes! I mean, no! It’s unreasonable that you expect me to stand by and watch you turn into this, this zombie with my friend’s face!”

“Daniel-“

“Dan. My name is Dan, and just because you’ve suddenly turned into an uptight, arrogant prick doesn’t mean you can start calling me Daniel.”

Aiden decided that this was one of those moments that called for discretion and had turned to walk back downstairs when the door opened.

“Oh, hello Aiden.”

He pivoted on his heel, “Hi, Charles. I was just headed downstairs so-“

“Actually, I was just leaving myself. Future Leaders of America is having a social, and I should be there, so the room’s yours. Could you give my friend Daniel a minute though? He’s a bit distraught.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” Charles walked down the hall, and Aiden wondered how someone so cold-blooded could ever call someone a friend.

“Um, Dan?” Aiden eased the door open to find him sitting on the couch. He looked up and sighed, “Yeah, I’ll be out in a moment.”

“No rush.”

Dan shook his head, “No, I really should be going. This was a mistake.” He picked up his bag and went for the door.

Aiden stopped him, “Wait. Can I ask you something?”

Dan turned, “Yeah, why not.”

“I, uh, I kind of overheard some of your… conversation.”

“You and the greater part of campus.”

Aiden cleared his throat, “So, anyway, you said that he’s changed? He wasn’t always like this?” Dan laughed and Aiden continued, “Because, I mean, I only talked to him once, in June, but he seemed different. Did something happen? Did somebody die or something?”

Dan shook his head, “No. That’s the really weird part. One day he’s Chuck, and then out of the blue he turns into this… robot. I’d almost say that his dad finally got to him, but his dad’s actually an alright guy.”

“His dad?”

Dan looked at him. “Henry McKennan? The Senator? Son of Governor McKennan and grandson of Mayor McKennan?”

Aiden shook his head, “Sorry, I’m from Maryland.”

“Oh. Well, they’re in politics, and his dad really wanted Chuck to go in too, but he just wanted to study English Lit.”

“Charles is an English major?”

“He was.”

Aiden frowned, “What happened?”

Dan shook his head, “I don’t know, and I’m not sure if I really care anymore.” He looked at the bag in his hand. “Here,” he offered it to Aiden, “I don’t want these.”

“Wait, what-“

“They’re some books I’d borrowed from Chuck. I came to give them back, but he doesn’t want them anymore, and neither do I.”

Aiden took the bag from him. “Okay.”

Dan looked around the room. “Six years. Six fucking years, and it ends like this.” He sighed, “Goddamnit,” and stalked out of the room.

Aiden listened as his footsteps faded down the hall. He dropped his books on the couch and looked to the other bag in his hand. He opened it and pulled out several thick paperbacks; Contemporary Paganism, Summoning Spirits and Magical Evocation, a translated Malleus Maleficarum, and a roughly-handled Druidic Tradition. Aiden held the last gingerly, remembering the copy that he’d left at home. He’d put his fascination with the arcane behind him, or at least he’d thought he had.

Aiden slid the books back into the sack and put it in one of his desk drawers. He frowned, confused. How was Charles, of all people, interested in the occult?


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

Sometime later, Aiden was jolted out of a dead sleep by someone knocking at the door. Dazed, he groped for his phone. 6:00 pm. His hour nap had stretched a bit.

Aiden rubbed his eyes and sat up, smashing his head against the ceiling. He fell back instantly, curling into the fetal position. Okay, he thought, sparks of pain flashing against his eyelids, score one for disorientation.

“Aiden?” It was Khalid.

Aiden groaned, “Just a minute.” He crawled off the bed, barely remembering the five foot drop. Pulling on pants and a shirt, he went to the door. Khalid stood outside.

“Hey, the whole floor’s going down to the activities fair; free food, lots of swag. You in?”

Aiden gauged the emptiness of his stomach. “Yeah, I’m in.” Grabbing his key and wallet, he locked the door and fell in line with the group. They stopped at a few more doors, collecting a few more floor mates before heading downstairs and into the cooling air of desert evening. With the temperature dropping, Aiden could finally examine his surroundings without the haze of midday heat. They passed a few sorority houses, and Aiden marveled as squads of girls decked out in dresses and high-heels poured out to fill the sidewalks.

“Rush week.” Khalid explained, catching Aiden’s confused look, “You joining a frat?”

Aiden shook his head, “No.”

“I’m an Alpha myself, but I know it’s not for everyone.”

Aiden looked over at the RA, “What year are you in, anyway?”

Khalid laughed, “Third year of five.” He chuckled, “It’s what I get for switching majors three times.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Marketing, then Journalism, and finally Poli-Sci.”

“How did you like Journalism?”

“That’s your major, right?”

Aiden shrugged, “Yeah.”

“How’d you pick that?”

Aiden paused, thinking back over the past year, to the person he’d been before… well, before everything. That Aiden would have never even considered this path, but then, that Aiden didn’t exist anymore. “It sounded like something I could do. How did you pick yours?”

“Well, I went with marketing for the money, Journalism for the glamour, and Poli-Sci because I wanted to graduate sometime in my 20’s.” He laughed, “Just FYI, don’t feel bad if you don’t get out of here in four years. A lot of people don’t.”

Aiden shrugged. “What’s the rush?”

“Exactly!” Khalid smiled broadly. “You’re alright, Aiden.”

They were interrupted by the low roar coming from the Kiner Sports Complex. Inside, lining both sides of the indoor track, the activities fair was in full swing. A surging river of densely-packed undergraduates flowed along the path, students stopping only long enough to snag some swag or sign up for a club.

Khalid turned around and addressed his flock. “Okay guys! If you want to stick together, follow me! Otherwise, good luck and Godspeed! Also, don’t forget; be in the lobby at 11:00 for the midnight movie!”

Aiden, quickly recognizing the futility of “sticking together” decided to brave the crowd solo. The sports booths held little interest for him. He passed them by absently, though occasionally halted by the misguided eagerness of a shrill recruiter.

As he passed through sports into the academic club booths, he found a familiar face.

“Hey, it’s you!”

Abiah looked up from the stack of flyers she’d been replenishing. “Excuse me?”

Aiden shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Um, we bumped into each other at the bookstore?”

“Oh, right!” She smiled, “I stole your book!”

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t really mine...”

She laughed, “So, how are you enjoying the fair so far?”

Aiden looked around, “It’s… busy.”

“That’s one way to describe it, I suppose.”

A moment passed by in awkward non-silence. “So, what are you up to with,” he gestured to the booth, “all this?”

Abiah turned around, “Oh, right. Well, this is the History Club booth! If you’re majoring in history or minoring in history, or if you just like history, you should definitely join.” She handed Aiden a flyer. He turned it over in his hand, “I’ll think about it, thanks!”

He waved goodbye as he walked away, shouting a quick, “See you around,” over the din. His reentry into the crowd was interrupted by a collision with a short, darkly tanned body. Aiden looked down to see Charles glare at him malevolently.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, Aiden, perhaps you could watch where you’re going.” He sneered, preparing to deliver more mockery when something behind Aiden caught his eye.

Abiah stood stone still amidst the chaos, wide, brown eyes staring at Charles like he’d started spitting flames.

Charles laughed, “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”

Aiden, puzzled, turned to Abiah. “Are you okay?”

Startled from her daze, she recollected herself and smiled. “Sorry, I must have spaced off.”

Charles appeared at Aiden’s side, “How cute. Care to introduce me to your friend, Aiden?”

In their entire six-hour acquaintanceship, Aiden had never wanted to punch Charles more. “Charles, this is Abiah. Abiah, this is my roommate, Charles.”

Extending a hand, Charles snickered, “How do you do?”

Abiah looked at his hand, then back at Charles. She did not accept it.

“Come on now, it won’t bite.”

She regarded his hand in the same manner that someone might view medical waste. “I’d rather not.”

Charles smiled and pulled his hand away. “Fair enough. I’ll leave you two to your… history.” He drew out the last word as though it were some lewd and depraved act.

As he sauntered away, Abiah walked up to Aiden. “Is he really your roommate?”

He turned to her, noticing for the first time the fear in her eyes. “Yes, why?”

“Just… be careful.”

“Why? Do you know something about him?”

She hesitated for a moment, “I- I really can’t say. Just be careful. Something’s not right about him.”

Aiden, surprised by the gravity of her demeanor, nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I will.”

She smiled then, relieved. Gesturing to the booth, she took her leave, citing pressing club-related duties. Aiden walked away, outwardly surveying the scene, but inwardly troubled.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

After a few moments of fumbling, Aiden fit the key into the door and walked into his room. A plastic bag, packed with flyers, free candy, and lanyards landed with a muted “thunk” on Charles’s couch. Aiden raised his hands and stretched toward the ceiling. He’d survived the fair, managed to find his way back without getting lost, and now faced three empty hours until he had to leave for the midnight movie. Aiden scratched his scalp and pulled out his desk chair. To the Internet!

One email check led to one status update led to one cat video, and so on, until Aiden glanced at his screen and noticed that it was 10:57. Muttering a quick expletive, he shut his laptop and all but ran out the door. The floor had already assembled in the lobby, and save a few people, it looked like most were present. Falling in line with the rest, Aiden managed to make awkward conversation with a guy whose name was instantly forgotten.

The night was cool, at least. It was miraculous to Aiden, who’d grown up in the oppressive humidity of Maryland summers, that the temperature could drop so much from the noontime heat.

As the group neared the aging single-screen theater, Aiden finally understood why they had left so early. Droves of La Mesa students were flocking to the siren call of “free movie”. By the time Aiden’s floor had gotten in, they had to settle for a cluster of seats on the right side toward the back.

Left behind while the rest went for snacks, Aiden chatted up the two other guys guarding the floor’s seats. One, Mike, was from Santa Fe and on his second year in English. The second, Caleb, was a La Mesa native and knew all the bars that wouldn’t card.

Aiden smiled and laughed, but he was hiding a sudden, sharp sadness from missing the Amoeba. He missed Bingo’s smile and Jem’s hair. He missed Quince’s… Oh god.

Don’t think about Quince

Don’t think about Quince

Don’t. Think. About. Quince.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder, and Aiden turned to see Khalid. The rest of the floor had returned from the concession stand. Taking this as his cue, he hurried up the aisle to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall.

Aiden sat down hard, burying his face in his hands. Don’t think about Quince. Don’t think about your best friend. Don’t think about the funeral, closed casket, shaking in the pew because you knew…

Stop it. Stop it right now. You’re not in Maryland anymore. You’re in New Mexico. Werewolves don’t live here.

Slowly, Aiden stopped trembling. Slowly, the image of that pair in the clearing faded. Slowly, he pulled off a length of toilet paper and wiped his face.

It was a while before he left the bathroom, before the telltale redness was gone from his eyes. By the time he got back to his seat, the previews were already rolling. Khalid shot him a questioning glance, but Aiden stoically ignored it.

He focused instead on the movie, “Dark Dreamer”. The previews had made it out to be this average, run-of-the-mill exorcism movie. The chesty coed heroine was being taken over by some kind of otherworldly force, and it was up to the conflicted, young parish priest to save the fair maid.

Imagine Aiden’s surprise when it turned out to be actually scary. Three fourths of the way through, Aiden’s hands gripped the edge of his armrest like a kid in a dentist’s chair. He wasn’t the only one. At the climax, the last big scare of the movie, several high, girlish screams broke out from the mostly male crowd around him.

As the credits flew by, Aiden tried to compose himself. Demons weren’t real, and they certainly weren’t watching him from the shadows, stalking his every move. Right? By the time he walked out of the theater, Aiden was joking with the rest of the floor about the heroine’s fondness for short, lacy nightgowns. The group was headed for the Student Center. As part of the welcome weekend activities, there was a pancake feed going on until 2:00 AM. Aiden excused himself and broke off, making his way back to Schmitt. Between one thing and another, he didn’t really feel like company.

Back in the dorm, after a long and shadowy walk from the theater, the lights were off and the shades were drawn. Still, Aiden could somehow feel Charles’s presence in the room. He changed quickly, awkwardly in the pitch-darkness, and crawled up into his bed.

Sleep was elusive that night. There was that long nap earlier, for one thing, and let’s not forget the pants-wettingly terrifying movie he’d just watched. However, as Aiden lay there, letting another hour tick by, he figured that he wouldn’t have slept all that well anyway. It was kind of hard to settle back into a normal sleep rhythm after driving cross-country hopped up on energy drinks and crashing in random motels.

Of course, it didn’t help anything that Charles was snoring.

Aiden took his eyes off the ceiling to shoot a glare down toward the source of the noise. About an hour after he’d come in, Charles had started making a weird, breathy kind of noise when he inhaled and exhaled. It was better than his dad’s thunderous, shake-the-house brand of snoring, but not by much.

Growling with frustration, Aiden flopped onto his back and tried to daze out. As his mind grew more unfocused, the sounds of the room faded. Aiden tried not to think, tried to close his eyes and let his subconscious take over. Sleep, he willed, sleep.

“…help. me…”

Aiden’s eyes snapped open, and he turned to look at Charles. He was lying on his back, face turned toward Aiden, asleep. No way. There was no way.

“…help. me…”

He did not just hear that. That did not just come out of his roommate.

“…help. me…”

Aiden stopped moving, stopped breathing. Quiet as a corpse, he strained his ears, listening for the next snore.

“Help. Me.”

He must have gasped. As he jumped back in his bed, he must have made some noise. Aiden flinched, and Charles’s eyes snapped open.

Charles’s head swiveled like a doll’s until, facing straight forward, his body lurched upward as if it were on hinges. He sat straight up. To Aiden, under the influence of fresh, shiny terror, Charles looked inhuman. No one moved like that. No one.

Slowly, with the deliberation of a Hollywood monster, Charles turned his head and faced Aiden. “Why have you woken me?”

If Aiden could have dissolved into the wall, he would have. He would gladly have sunk back into the institution-white walls and disappeared. Anything to get him out of that room and away from that…thing.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Oh god, don’t kill me!

The Charles-thing stared. “Is it too much to expect silence as I rest?”

In a nanosecond, Aiden decided that he could be out the door and down the stairs in under a minute. If Charles attacked, he’d run for it, and hope that otherworldly monstrosities obeyed physics like the rest of us.

“My bad. It won’t happen again.” Don’t show it fear. They can sense fear.

Charles glared, his face turning serpentine with disdain. “See that it doesn’t.”

As suddenly as he’d awoken, Charles turned over and went back to sleep. The room was quiet again; Charles’s slow breathing the only interruption of the silence. With the streetlights below glowing faintly through the shades, Aiden pulled himself under the covers and rolled over to face the wall. Heart pounding, mind racing, he shivered, trying desperately not to look at Charles.

Sleep was elusive that night.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

In the noisy vortex of Rollings Dining Center, Aiden Teague slumped over his breakfast, exhausted to the point of stupor. The mug of coffee before him, his third of the day, was doing little to help. He hadn’t actually slept since his nap Saturday afternoon. His last full night’s rest lay three days behind him, in a cheap roadside hotel along I-25.

Aiden brought a forkful of industrial eggs to his mouth. They were more plastic than protein, but he swallowed, either ignoring or unaware of the taste. Aiden glanced at the clock, and rolled his eyes. 8:30. Great. Half an hour until his first class of his first semester. Grabbing his coffee, he chugged half of the cup and grimaced. First class, first day, and I’m going to fall asleep, he mused. Thanks a lot, Charles, whatever you are.

Aiden shuddered, thinking back on the past two nights. Nothing in his life, not even that midnight encounter in the Maryland woods, had prepared him for this. Facing down lycanthropes in the darkness is nothing compared to being locked in with a d…”

Demons don’t exist, dummy. Ah. There it was. The voice of reason. It may run screaming when boogeymen go bump in the night, but it could always be depended upon to provide sanity in the light of day. Demons don’t exist. Demons DON’T EXIST!

Just like werewolves don’t exist? The voice, a tiny pinprick in the back of his mind, spoke up like a smartass. Right, he groaned, just like werewolves.

Stuffing the remaining slices of bacon into his mouth, Aiden picked up his tray, sent it to the dishroom, and started walking. Well, “walking”, is a relative term. After two days without sleep, no one really “walks” anymore. They weave, and by some footnote in physics, they usually manage to stay on their feet. So, under a sun gearing up for blistering heat, Aiden wove his way across campus.

Naturally, Wauneka Hall was as far away as possible while still remaining “on campus”. Of course, Aiden chuckled, the universe is punishing me. Why wouldn’t it be light-years away? The building, a squat red-brick affront to architecture, was the combined home of the psychology and history departments. On the first floor, in the mercifully easy to locate lecture hall, Aiden found History 100.

Even ten minutes early, Aiden was far from the first to arrive. Overachievers already packed the front rows, books out, pens ready. Aiden, a habitual back-row slacker, aimed for a seat in the middle, hoping the human camouflage would mask any sudden, unavoidable naps. Pulling out a notebook, he waited as the trickle of students grew to a flood. Twice, he found himself closing his eyes, head tilting toward his chest. Bad, Aiden thought as he shook himself awake, this is very bad. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and I’m already dozing.

As though it had been waiting for this cue, the lecture hall’s door opened once more, and this time admitted a short, gray-haired woman with a laptop case, followed closely by another short, dark haired woman whose loose braids bounced against her back as she made her way down the auditorium’s steps. Abiah. Near catatonia or no, Aiden still recognized her. He chuckled; wonder if she realizes there are no seats left up front?

But, no. It seemed that wouldn’t be a problem. Abiah followed the woman up to the podium and began wrangling with the lights and projector system.

Oh, he thought to himself, she’s not a student, she’s the TA.

Marveling at his complete idiocy, Aiden tried to sink into his seat when Abiah came by to pass out the syllabi. Thankfully, she didn’t notice him, and as the passed by, the woman at the front opened her PowerPoint and addressed the assembly.

“Good morning, and welcome to History 100. My name is Dr. Finch, and if this is not the class you were expecting, now would be a fine time to make a quick exit.”

She continued , discussing the content of the syllabus and moving on to an introduction to prehistory. To Dr. Finch’s credit, the material was interesting, and the presentation engaging. Unfortunately, Dr. Finch had a rich, soothing voice. This sufficed to turn a fifty minute lecture into a fifty minute lullaby. In his nigh comatose state, Aiden didn’t stand a chance.

He woke often, each time promising himself it was the last. He tried doodling, writing haiku, and even stabbing himself in the palm with his Bic, all to no avail. Five minutes to class end, Aiden awoke again. Nobody was looking at him, so apparently he hadn’t snored. Still, the first page of his notebook was a mass of stick figures and increasingly illegible poetry.

Great, he groaned, just great. What an auspicious start to your higher education. Thanks so much, Charles. Aiden grimaced. Charles. Asshole extraordinaire and possible hellbeast. What the hell was wrong with him any…”

Aiden trailed off as he realized he’d been staring at Abiah. Abiah. His thoughts flashed back to Saturday, to that strangely icy encounter at the fair. Abiah had treated Charles like medical waste. She hadn’t even wanted to touch him.

“She knew.” Aiden didn’t grasp that he’d whispered the last until his neighbors shot him strange looks. He didn’t care. Suddenly, he wasn’t longing for sleep. Suddenly, he was positively riveted, feet tapping on the floor, waiting for the moment class ended. She knew.

“Alright, class dismissed. See you Wednesday.” Those words, those magical words rocketed Aiden out of his seat. His escape plans, however, were thwarted by the presence of about one hundred other people with the same idea.

Fortunately, Abiah and Dr. Finch also had to wait out the mass exodus, so when Aiden fought his way to the podium, neither had a chance to leave.

Dr. Finch noticed him first. “Did you have a question?”

Aiden shook his head. “No. I mean, yes. I actually have a question for, um, Abiah. About History Club.”

“Oh, alright then. If you’ll excuse me.” She picked up her laptop case and headed for the door. Abiah turned to him and smiled. “Oh! Bookstore guy! Hi! So, you’re thinking about History Club?”

“Actually,” he admitted, “I lied. I need to ask you about something else.”

“Oh?”

“That guy you met at the fair, my roommate? You didn’t like him. Why?”

She tried to hide it, but Aiden saw her expression grow forced. “I’m not sure who you mean.”

“You remember. Short, blonde, tan. Reeks of douchebaggery. You looked at him like he was roadkill. Why?”

“I’m sorry, but the next class is coming in, and I really need to be getting on.” She made a move for the stairs, but Aiden blocked her.

“Abiah, please. There’s something really wrong with this guy, and if it’s something dangerous, I need to know about it. What do you know about him?”

Abiah looked around warily. “Can we discuss this in the hallway?”

“Sure.” Aiden stepped back and followed her out of the lecture hall. It was no more private out there, but at least they were no longer the focal point of the room.

“Okay. What’s wrong with Charles?”

Abiah bit her lip. “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. The only thing that matters now is that you stay out of his way and get away from him as soon as you can. You’re right. He is dangerous, but as long as you don’t provoke him, you’re likely to be left alone.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

She sighed. “Because it’s best if you don’t know. Besides, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Abiah,” Aiden looked around to check for eavesdroppers, then leaned in to whisper, “My ex-girlfriend was a werewolf. A Were-Wolf. Fur, claws, the whole deal.” He paused to let that sink in. “Nothing you could say would surprise me.”

Abiah’s eyes widened, astonished, but she heard nothing but sincerity. “Okay then. Your roommate is being possessed by a demon.”

Vindication washed over him. “I knew it. I KNEW it! But…” A question buzzed across his mind. Once thought, it could not be ignored. “How did you know?”

“I… uh…” Abiah faltered, groping for words.

A light clicked on in Aiden’s head. “You’re not human, are you?”

Sheepishly, Abiah smiled. “Not exactly.”


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

Aiden swallowed quickly, to hide his sudden, complete loss of equilibrium. Abiah isn't human. Charles isn't human. Is anybody? There was a buzzing in his head that may have been the rapid destruction of his world view, although more likely it was sleep deprivation.

“So,” The person you're talking to is not human, his brain taunted. She's not human! Any second, she's going to sprout claws and eat you!

But, looking at Abiah, Aiden couldn't believe that the wanted to harm him. It was something about her face, about the kindness she radiated. It was stupid, but trust is always a little bit stupid. Taking an exceptional leap of faith, he continued, “So, what now?”

Abiah sighed, “Well, now we need to find Dr. Finch. She's got a plan, and now that you're involved, she'll want to bring you up to speed.”

Aiden laughed, “Let me guess; She's not human either?”

Abiah paused, “It's not my place to say.”

The levity in Aiden's voice froze. “Wait, seriously?” Lowering his voice further, he hissed, “Is anybody human at this school?”

Not deigning to respond, Abiah frowned sternly at Aiden. Whatever else Abiah may have been, she was a master at conveying disapproval.

“Sorry.” Aiden apologized meekly. “That was uncalled for.”

“Come. I want to catch her before she wanders off.” Abiah started making her way through the waiting throngs of students.

“Wanders off?” Aiden had to shout to be heard.

“You'll find soon enough that the professors are like cats. Trying to force them to stay put is a laughable task.”

Upstairs, on the third floor, Abiah lead the way through the maze of cramped offices and conference rooms. At the far end, a nameplate reading “Dr. Finch” indicated that they'd reached their destination.

Abiah knocked lightly, and a voice called, “Come in.”

The room, comparatively spacious by academic office standards, was adorned with a dizzying array of items. Aiden noticed an African tribal mask on the desk, an Indian tapestry on the wall, and a Digeridoo leaning against the window. Dr. Finch was, apparently, very well traveled.

“Abiah! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

After shutting the door with a quiet “click”, Abiah seated herself in one of the chairs on the student side of the desk. “This,” she pointed behind her, “is Aiden. His roommate is the possessed boy.”

Dr. Finch blinked once, then looked at Aiden. “Oh. And he's here because...?”

“Because I cannot, in good conscience, leave him ignorant of the dangers of his situation.”

“And you think that telling him is going to help?”

“Yes. And, I think that we will need his help before this is over.”

“Abiah, realistically, what could he possibly-”

“I'm standing right here.”

The women turned; Abiah, chastened, Dr. Finch, annoyed.

“Very well,” Dr. Finch began, “what do you have to contribute?”

Aiden glared. “With all due respect, Dr. Finch, I've gone over 48 hours without sleep because my condescending jerk of a roommate snores 'help me' and sounds like something out of the Exorcist-”

Dr. Finch focused on Aiden fully. “He snores 'help me'?”

Aiden rolled his eyes, “Well, it's scarier than it sounds, but, yeah, basically.”

“So, he's still in there.”

“Who?”

“Charles.”

“Charles?”

“The boy you're living with. Charles, yes?” Dr. Finch looked to Abiah for affirmation.

Abiah nodded. “It would seem that the demon hasn't expelled Charles completely.”

Dr. Finch sighed. “Well, this changes things.”

“We still have to stop him.”

“Yes, but I've never had to worry before about keeping the host alive.”

“Wait,” Aiden interjected. “What are you talking about?”

The women exchanged a look. Abiah started, “In cases of demon possession, the possessed person or thing is usually completely taken over. There is nothing left behind of them except for an empty vessel for the demon to use.

“So,” she floundered for a moment, groping for the right words, “ordinarily, when trying to evict a demon, you don't have to concern yourself with the host's survival; there's nothing there worth saving.”

Aiden finished, “But, if Charles is still in there, the normal method won't work.”

Dr. Finch snorted. “Considering that the normal method boils down to decapitation, no.”

“What”

“It's just logical really; a demon trying to blend in can't walk around wearing a headless corpse. So it leaves, and the problem goes somewhere else.”

“That's horrifying.”

“But it gets the job done. Most of the time,” she amended with a shrug.

“So, what do we do now?”

Dr. Finch smiled. “I guess it is 'we' now. Well, 'we',” she gestured to herself and Abiah, “need to do some brainstorming, and you,” she pointed to Aiden, “need to get some sleep. You look like death.”

“But I have classes-”

“Skip them.”

“I could help-”

“Not in your current state.”

“How am I supposed to sleep less than ten feet away from a demon?”

Dr. Finch looked squarely at him. “You'll be perfectly fine as long as he thinks he has you fooled. For whatever reason, he's trying to blend in as a student, and if he thinks he's got you convinced, he'll leave you alone.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm certain. Go get at least six hours of sleep. I'll let you know if we come up with anything.”

“Do you need my number?”

Dr. Finch smiled, “I have the class roster, dear boy. It comes with email addresses. We'll be in touch.”

Seemed reasonable, Aiden thought, and turned, more than eager to obey orders.

“Oh, and Aiden?”

“Yeah?”

“You've got spine; it's a trait I admire, so I've decided to like you. But don't ever fall asleep in my class again.”

Aiden quailed under her steady stare. Dazed, he nodded. “Yes Ma'am.”

Out the door and down the hall, Aiden wondered what he'd gotten himself into.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

The high-pitched whine of a blow-dryer brought Aiden back to the world. He'd spent the past 18 hours in the black oblivion of exhausted dreamless sleep, and he opened his eyes to see Charles styling his douchey blonde hair.

“I see you've decided to finally awaken.”

Aiden grumbled assent.

“Tell me, are you ill or simply lazy?”

Aiden, goaded into speech, responded, “I was exhausted.” He pushed himself up on his elbows and grabbed for his phone. “I didn't sleep well the past few nights.”

“May I ask why?”

Aiden threw a glance over his shoulder, “You care?”

“Your sarcasm is unwarranted.”

“As always.” Aiden rubbed his eyes and threw back the covers, carefully crawling out of bed. He turned to see Charles awaiting a reply, so, sighing, he answered, “Nerves.”

“Nerves?”

“I get nervous before the start of school,” he lied, “and when I'm nervous, I can't sleep.”

“I see. I am glad to hear that it's not influenza.”

“Thanks.” He pulled out his desk chair and plopped down.

“It wouldn't do to be ill this early in the semester.”

“Yeah.” Aiden rolled his eyes, “That'd be really terrible for you.”

Charles either chose to ignore the snide comment or simply didn't care. Either way, the conversation died and Aiden focused on the internet and his demonic asshole of a roommate.

Keep up appearances, he reminded himself. As long as he thinks I'm duped, he'll leave me alone.

Sighing, Aiden clicked through his usual string of websites, webcomics and social media platforms before remembering that he had a shiny new email address to check.

Signing into his La Mesa account, he noticed amid the welcome spam a missive from Dr. Jeanette Finch, dated last night at about 10. The subject line read, “Honors Project”. Checking over his shoulder, Aiden saw Charles obsessively combing his hair, staring into the over-the-door mirror on the closet. Aiden sneered, I should be safe.

Clicking on the email, he read

“Mr. Teague,

Regarding the honors project we discussed earlier, I think it would be a good idea to meet sometime tomorrow. Please bring with you any information you can put together on the subject you'd like to study. I'm free from 11:00-11:50 and 2:00-4:00

-Dr. Finch

PS: Feel free to contact me by phone.”

The email footer went on to list her phone number. Aiden smiled and added her as a contact in his cell. Her email must be monitored, he thought, why else bother with the subterfuge? That or maybe she just didn't feel comfortable telling him in plain English to spy on Charles.

Well, he thought archly, I can say with absolute certainty that he's a self-obsessed dick. But, other than that... Aiden looked behind him. Charles was still preening in the mirror, like the exact arrangement of his hair decided the fate of the world. Through his veil of dislike, Aiden had to admit that he knew next to nothing about his roommate.

This assignment was going to require some snooping.

Aiden clicked off of his email and powered down his laptop. Grabbing his flip flops and shower gear, he headed for the bathroom, shuffling awkwardly past Charles on his way out. Hopefully he'd be done grooming by the time Aiden returned, leaving the room devoid of witnesses.

Over the past few days, Aiden had managed, via process of elimination, to find at least two stalls in the shower room that were reliably warm. Heading into one of these and finding it empty, Aiden proceeded to indulge in a long, near-scalding shower.

***

Aiden, skin pink from excessive heat, shuffled back into his room, towel firmly clutched shut by his free hand. At the door, he awkwardly maneuvered his keys into the lock and opened the door. He managed to get the door shut before his towel fell off.

Mercifully, he was alone, a fact that had him rushing to dress. Who knew how long Charles would be gone? Aiden hung up his towel and, stealing a glance at the locked door, approached Charles' desk.

The meticulous orderliness was daunting. That much organization was foreign to Aiden, who'd routinely gone months without cleaning his room.

He'll notice if anything is missing, Aiden realized. Hell, he'll notice if anything is out of place.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit... the mantra continued at a steady pace while he tried to find a solution. Then, he rolled his eyes and sighed. Duh.

Aiden reached up onto his bed to retrieve his phone. Stepping back, he took a few quick pictures of the desk area, then moved in closer for some detail shots of the desk top.

Satisfied, Aiden carefully drew out the chair and began searching.

The desktop was a complete bust. Charles' laptop was password-protected, and Aiden wasn't nearly clever enough to figure out the answer. Beyond that, the lamp and printer weren't much help.

“Okay, strike one,” Aiden muttered. Shooting a quick glance at the door, he scooted back in the chair and slowly pulled open the top drawer.

“Seriously?” Disgusted, Aiden took a few pictures. Charles had pens, pencils sharpies and highlighters neatly organized in their own separate trays. Post-its of varying size and color littered the drawer, covering Khalid's welcome packet and a large leather planner and...

Wait. Jackpot. Aiden carefully extracted the planner and started flipping through it. It was blank up until mid-June.

That's when it happened, Aiden realized. Who starts a planner mid-summer? It didn't make sense unless he was under demonic influence.

Would you listen to yourself, his rational side interrupted.

It's the only logical explanation.

Logical? You just ascribed the buying of a planner to “Demonic influence,” and you call that logical?

In a world that apparently houses werewolves, demons and god knows what else, yes, that is a logical conclusion.

Annoyed with himself, Aiden focused on the planner, photographing important looking pages, looking for information that could help Dr. Finch and Abiah. He was also acutely aware of the passing time. Charles could come back at any time, and if he did, Aiden would have less than five seconds to get the hell away from his desk. Every slight noise set him on edge.

The entries for this week were a hieroglyphic mess of club meetings and event times, but little to no mentions of classes. Not surprising; first week of a semester couldn't be much more than reading syllabi and going through introductions. Still, it would be really nice to know what his classes where. It would make it a lot easier to keep track of him.

A door slammed in the hallway. Aiden shot straight up and froze . Someone in squeaky new shoes started walking away from his door.

Aiden settled back into the chair as his heartrate slowed from panic. Quickly flipping through the rest of the planner, he noticed a small folder at the back. Inside was a textbook receipt, a Young Republicans sticker and a class schedule.

“Hello there.” Aiden pulled it out and shot a couple quick pictures of it. Looking closer, he saw that Charles was signed up for Calculus 2, Intro to American Politics, Principles of Communication, and a 200 level economics class.

“Ambitious bastard,” Aiden grumbled. At a second glance, looking up and down the times of his classes, Aiden saw that none of them were happening right now.

“Oh, God.” Aiden whispered, just a second before he heard the footsteps approaching his door.

“Shit shit shit shit SHIT!” Flipping the planner shut, throwing it in the drawer and slamming it shut, Aiden vaulted across the room and slammed down on his chair.

Breathing heavily, Aiden groped for his phone, desperate for something to focus on, only to realize that he'd left it on Charles' desk.

Shiiii-

And then someone knocked on the door.

“Oh thank God.” Aiden sighed. It's not Charles; Charles wouldn't bother to knock.

“Aiden? It's Khalid.”

Relief washed over him. Heaving a huge sight, Aiden stood, walked to the door and opened it.

“Did I interrupt something ?” Khalid looked him up and down, an amused yet mildly disgusted look on his face.

“No,” Aiden lied. “Just getting dressed.” He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “I'd really like to not get caught changing by my roommate.”

Khalid shrugged. “It's gonna happen sooner or later. Anyway, I'm just dropping by to ask if you had that paperwork I gave you filled out.”

“Paperwork?” Then understanding dawned. “Oh! Damn, I'm sorry; I completely spaced that.”

“That's alright, but could you get it to me sometime today?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Great, thanks!” Khalid seemed about to walk away, but turned back. “Are you sure you're okay? You're acting kind of strange.”

“I'm fine,” Aiden bluffed, “really, but thanks for asking.”

“Alright, see you later!”

“Bye!” Aiden managed to smile for a second or two before ducking back inside and slamming the door.

That's one close call too many, Aiden silently decided, sliding into Charles' chair. Meticulously, Aiden put Charles' desk back together, taking care to smooth the schedule before placing it back into the planner. I'll call this good for now.

Quickly and quietly, he put everything back as it had been when he started snooping, down to the last Post-it pad. There would be time for more espionage later, especially now that Aiden had his schedule. Looking down at his phone, Aiden saw that he had just enough time to grab breakfast before his English class.

He never noticed the webcam on Charles' computer, and he certainly didn't see its little red light.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

An angry sun beat down upon the La Mesa campus. At 2:00 in the afternoon, the air held oven heat and even a short jaunt outside guaranteed perspiration. Aiden, walking from Rollings Dining Center to Wauneka Hall, was pouring sweat. The cross-campus trek had rapidly devolved into a trial by fire, and a long string of epithets about having forgotten to buy a water bottle.

It helped nothing that he was wearing his shiny, new backpack with the padded fit that, true, helped his spine bear the weight, but also trapped his body heat against his skin.

That's it, Aiden vowed, I'm getting a rolling book bag. I don't care how dorky it looks.

Finally, like an ugly, squat mirage, Wauneka Hall came into view. Blessings to a thousand different deities passed through his lips as Aiden walked through the doors and made a beeline for the bathroom. Throwing his burden on the floor, Aiden cranked out several sheets of paper towel, wet them under the faucet, and started sopping up his soaking back, underarms, and face.

I'm going to need another shower today, Aiden realized, looking at his flushed, wet face. Let's hope it's worth it. He grimaced as he cranked out more sheets to dry with. He'd emailed Dr. Finch back to say that he'd meet with her after his English class, which, mercifully, went much better than his History lecture. The wonders that almost a full day of sleep can do for a mind.

Refreshed and, hopefully, less smelly, Aiden exited the restroom and climbed the stairs to Dr. Finch's office. The door was ajar, and after knocking, Aiden entered to find Dr. Finch and Abiah waiting for him.

“Ah, Mr. Teague. Come in!”

Aiden carefully closed the door behind him and sat down. “So, what did you find?”

Dr. Finch dropped the professionalism. “Not much. Almost all of the recorded methods for demon exorcism are pure superstition or completely lethal. Abiah has an idea that sounds promising, but it's untested and if it doesn't work, it could end up making things a thousand times worse.”

“Gee,” Aiden muttered, “that's comforting.”

“Yes, well unfortunately, it's the only idea we've got. Abiah?” Dr. Finch turned to her TA.

Abiah began, “Well, theoretically this could work. You see, when a demon possesses a body, the person inside of that body has to be weak enough to not fight, or has to willingly let the demon in.”

“People would do that?” Aiden asked.

“More often than you'd think. Some want power, some don't know what they're doing, and then some of them know exactly what's about to happen to them.” Abiah grimaced. “There are all sorts of reasons to seek a possession, but in all cases, the host has to be open to the demon.”

Dr. Finch continued, “And that's where the idea comes in. Abiah thought of it; it's incredibly clever, but also very risky.”

“Yes,” Abiah answered, “because the host has to open themselves to possession or be incapacitated, in theory if the host closes themselves to the possession, the demon will be forced to leave. Sort of revoking the invitation, if you will.

Since Charles was, presumably, not comatose, dying or dead at the time of possession, it stands to reason that he invited the demon.”

Aiden grimaced. “Somehow that's worse than just being possessed.”

Abiah pursed her lips. “It's not our place to judge.”

Interrupting, Dr. Finch directed her attention to Aiden, “This is where you come in. If Abiah is correct, and I think she is, we need to find a way to help Charles expel the demon. To do this, we need to know more about him; what are his likes, his dislikes, his hopes, his dreams? What would most motivate him to get rid of this parasite?” How did he get possessed. in the first place?”

Aiden frowned, “Oh. That- that's going to be tough.”

“Why?”

Aiden shrugged, “I don't know who he was before the possession. I met him when he was already Charles the super-douche.” Aiden stopped, thinking.

“What?” Abiah asked.

“I met a friend of his. He came by this weekend and dropped off some books. If I could track him down, I could ask him about Charles.”

“Books?”

“Yeah,” Aiden started digging in his bag. “I brought them just in case. Maybe he left his name or something in them. Either that or I could internet stalk Charles until I find the friend.” Pulling out the volumes, Aiden plopped them on Dr. Finch's desk and started flipping through the first one, looking for clues. Abiah pulled out Contemporary Paganism.

“These belonged to his friend?”

“Hmm?” Aiden looked up. “No. Dan-the friend, said he borrowed them from Chuck.”

“Chuck?”

“That's what Charles went by before...” Aiden trailed off, the book laying limply in his hands. Before the demon, his mind finished. The real Charles.

“So,” Dr. Finch began, picking up Summoning Spirits and Magical Evocation, “Charles was interested in the occult. Well, that probably explains how he came to be possessed.” Sighing, she flipped through the pages, “There's still the question of 'why'?”

“Why?” Aiden asked.

“Why would a demon bother possessing a teenage boy in New Mexico, of all places?”

Aiden laughed, “I didn't realize demons were so picky.”

“Demons are incorporeal entities with the infinitude of space and time at their fingertips.” Dr. Finch snapped. “They don't go around possessing people for the hell of it. There has to be a reason.”

Abiah chimed in, “We'll ask him when we're done. In the meantime, there's a scared boy out there stuck in his body with a demonic force that poses a grave threat to him and everyone around him. So, let's talk about helping him.”

“Well,” Dr. Finch began, holding the book in her hands, “We know the boy was interested in the occult and the supernatural. Enough, at least, to spend money on these ridiculous things. I can't think of a magical practitioner worth their salt who would be seen with these-”

“Wait,” Abiah whispered, “wait a moment. That might be it.”

“What?” Aiden asked.

“Charles, Chuck,” she amended, “he owned these books, so on some level, he must have believed them.”

“Okay...”

“If he believes in the spells in these books, then maybe he'll believe us if we perform a traditional exorcism.”

“But those don't work,” Dr. Finch objected. “They're superstitious bunk. A lot of chanting and bloodletting and herb tossing. There's no real power there.”

“But if Charles believes there's power there, it might give him enough impetus to cast the demon out.”

“You can't be serious.” Dr. Finch said.

“I am.”

“You mean the boy's going to eject the demon out of sheer force of will?”

“It's the placebo effect! If he believes strongly enough, then he will make it happen!”

“You're going to trust the placebo effect? Of all things? Abiah, be reasonable! Consider the consequences! The risks! If this fails, not only will the demon not be exorcised, but then it will also know that we are trying to get rid of it, and in all probability, it will respond by trying to get rid of us!”

“Wait, what?” Aiden latched onto the last piece of information.

Abiah sighed. “That's why the idea is so risky. If it doesn't work, we lose the element of surprise, and the demon knows who we are.”

“That sounds incredibly bad.”

“Because it is.” Dr. Finch agreed, “Which is why we need something a little more robust than the placebo effect. Abiah, if it were so easy to will the demon away, he would have done it himself. We have to have something else. I was thinking we could get his parents out here to help draw him out.”

“His parents?” Aiden asked.

“His parents, his best friend, his girlfriend, his boyfriend, whoever. Someone important to him, who could help coax him through it.”

Aiden looked skeptically at Dr. Finch. “I honestly don't think that's going to work. Charles didn't seem to care much about his friend Dan when he visited, I don't think he has a girlfriend or whatever, and I'm pretty sure his parents would think you're crazy, and that's if you could even get in touch with them...” Aiden trailed off, eyes widening as he stared into nothing.

“Aiden?” Abiah touched his shoulder.

“Aiden, what is it?”

“I know why the demon chose him.”

“What? Why?”

“His family. He's a McKennan; they're a political dynasty. If he wanted to, Charles could follow in his family's footsteps and go into politics.” Aiden ran a hand through his hair, stunned. “Jesus. Charles wasn't after power, the demon was.”

Abiah interjected, “But that's no guarantee. Just because his family-”

“Abiah, nepotism is alive and well in American politics. Ask the Bushes and the Kennedys.” Dr. Finch shook her head. “I can't believe I missed that. Charles McKennan. With his connections, he could be president one day.”

“And then all of the power and authority that comes with that office would be in the hands of a malevolent supernatural being.” Aiden finished.

Dr. Finch raised an eyebrow. “Well put.”

Aiden shrugged.

“So, you're saying that we're potentially the only force standing between this demon and control of the US military?” Abiah asked, incredulous.

Dr. Finch chuckled, “It would appear so.”

“And we only have one shot at stopping it?” Aiden added.

“Yep.”

“No pressure then.”

“Nope."


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

Navigating the maze of hallways connecting the Rollings-Richardson-Schmitt complex had gotten a good deal easier in the past few days. Aiden, heading from the dining hall back to his dorm room, barely had to think about where he was going. A good thing too; after an afternoon of brainstorming and planning, his head was abuzz with errant thoughts. Aiden had mostly spent the time on his laptop, using all of his Google-fu to learn about Charles, while Dr. Finch had read through the books and Abiah went out to fetch an ever growing list of supplies: herbs, garlic, salt, candles, matches, and on and on. Dr. Finch kept muttering about hocus pocus and empty trappings, but if it worked, Aiden reasoned, then the trappings of ceremony couldn't be completely empty, right?

The battle royale was tentatively set for next Tuesday at 6:30pm, right after Charles' Intro to American Politics lecture let out. Aiden was supposed to meet him by King Hall and “lure” him to the Gorman Sculpture Garden. It was relatively close and a low traffic area of campus, so Dr. Finch thought it was their best bet for performing the ritual short of kidnapping him and driving out into the desert. Not that they hadn't given that option some thought, but they had no idea how to obtain a strong enough sedative between now and then.

The part of the plan that most worried Aiden was the “luring”. Abiah and Dr. Finch hadn't exactly been explicit about how he was supposed to manage that. At least I've got a week to figure it out, Aiden reassured himself as he reached his door. Finding it unlocked, he pushed it open and walked into the room.

The room where Charles stood center stage.

“Aiden,” Charles smiled brightly, “please have a seat.” He gestured to the couch and, warily, Aiden obeyed. He doesn't know, Aiden thought, he can't know. This is something trivial. Maybe I forgot to hang my towel up and he's pissed.

“What's up?”

“Oh, I just wanted us to have a little chat. How are you?”

“I'm good,” Aiden responded cautiously, “A little confused about what's going on.”

“Alright then, I'll get to the point.” He turned to his desk and on his laptop brought up a video program. “I found something really interesting today and I thought you'd like to see it.”

He pressed play and Aiden's heart dropped like a stone. The video was a time lapse view from Charles' computer.

Holy hell, he has a webcam.

The staccato flow of images captured Charles at his desk, moving away, Aiden waking up, leaving the room, more Charles, and, finally, Aiden at Charles' desk. Phone out. Taking pictures and digging through the desk.

Pausing, Charles turned to a bone white Aiden. “Don't you think that's fascinating?”

Aiden, nauseated beyond the power of speech, was silent.

“Well, I think it's pretty darn interesting. I'm particularly curious as to why, while rifling through my personal property, you felt the need to use your phone. Care to explain?”

“I'm sorry,” Aiden began shakily, “it was really shitty of me. I shouldn't have done it.”

“Then why did you?”

“I-” Aiden frowned, “I wanted to know why you've been acting so weird.” he lied.

“And you believe that gave you license to go through my possessions?”

“Yes, well- no, not really.” he fumbled his words. “It's just...um.”

“You're lying.”

Hard to disagree with that, “Charles-”

“You are going to tell me why you were going through my desk and you're going to tell me now.”

“After what Dan said and the books he left behind, I wondered-”

Charles' demeanor switched in an instant, from feline coyness to ice cold rage. “What exactly did Daniel say to you?”

“Just that you've been acting really off lately.”

“And so you took that as permission to meddle in affairs that are none of your concern.”

“You're my roommate; we live together; I should be concerned that you've been acting strange!”

Charles was silent a moment, frowning. “Aiden, I had hoped that we could find a tolerable peace as roommates, but after all this, I don't believe that's possible.”

Aiden stood and grabbed his backpack. “Fine. I agree, we don't work as roommates. I'll petition to switch rooms, and we'll never have to talk to each other again.”

Charles smiled. “That's not quite what I had in mind.” Then his hand clamped, viselike, onto Aiden's throat.

“You see, Aiden,” Charles continued over Aiden's strangled curses, “I don't like loose ends; they're the mark of a messy life. I don't like messes.”

Aiden tried to think past, “Fucking hell, how is Charles this strong?” The moves of a thousand action movies blurred over his mind; none of them solidifying into an actual plan. He tried pulling Charles' hand away, tried scratching at his face, even tried to knee him in the groin; no avail. Finally, black spots dancing in his vision, Aiden stomped on Charles' foot, heel hitting on the top with a muffled 'pop'.

Charles' eyes bugged out at the sudden agony, and Aiden knocked his hand away, pulling back with his right hand and plowing the full force of his fist into Charles' face.

Charles fell, blood gushing from his nostrils, but Aiden didn't stop to think. Running, he flung open the door and flew down the hall, knocking past a very surprised Khalid. Down the stairs, out the door, away from the building, Aiden's shoes pounded the pavement, rapid tempo rivaling his heartbeat.

Must get away. Must get away. Must get away. Nothing else ran through his mind as he raced down the emptied sidewalks. Past the Student Union, the vicious roiling of his stomach became too much, and he double over, heaving his dinner onto the concrete.

Gasping for breath, Aiden chanced to look behind him and saw a distant figure slowly advancing. And then, as if Aiden's nerves weren't frazzled enough, his phone rang in his pocket.

Aiden let out a high, feminine scream and jumped, almost slipping in his own mess. Taking a last look at the distant figure, Aiden pulled the phone out and started walking in the opposite direction.

“Hello?”

“Aiden?” Dr. Finch's concern exuded through the speakers, “What's wrong?”

“It's-” Aiden coughed past the pain in his throat, “it's Charles. He's after me. He tried to kill me.”

“Where are you?”

“Outside of the Union. I think he's following me.”

“...jando pele ...” She hesitated a moment. “Okay, here's what we're going to do: you head for the Statue Garden. Lead Charles there. Abiah and I will meet you; we'll do the ritual early.”

“But we're not ready!”

“It's a little late for that shit now. Sculpture Garden, okay?”

“Alright.” As Aiden went to hang up, he heard Dr. Finch yelling for Abiah. Okay, he though, I just have to lead Charles to the garden. Super simple. Just acting as bait for my homicidal roommate. Easy as pie.

Glancing behind, Aiden saw the figure had advanced significantly. It was Charles, and he was gaining.

“Aiden! Come on now! You're just delaying the inevitable!”

Rage blossomed in Aiden's belly. “Fuck off, Charles!” Turning again to run, he heard behind him, “Your anger won't save you!”

How is he running with a busted foot, Aiden wondered as he broke into a sprint.

He's a demon, dipshit; you really expect him to feel pain like the rest of us?

He felt it when it broke.

Quit wondering and fucking run! His survival instinct kicked in and he went full tilt.

Finally, breathlessly, he reached the Gorman Sculpture Garden. In the shadow of a massive modern-art spatula, Aiden caught sight of two women standing over a ring of white.

Lead him into the ring, Aiden thought dazedly, I need to get him into the ring.

“Aiden!” The singsong call behind him heralded the arrival of the demonic asshole.

Turning to face him, Aiden growled, “Stay the fuck away from me!”

Charles limped forward slowly, methodically, forcing Aiden back and back. “You can't run from me, Aiden. I'm more than you can possibly know, and I can find you anywhere.”

“I don't care what the fuck you are!”

“What, no curiosity?” Charles frowned, “I'm disappointed, Aiden. Here, now, in your last moments, you don't want to know what's about to end your...” Charles stopped, puzzled. Carefully, Aiden stepped back, out of the salt circle.

“What's this?”

“This,” Aiden began, “is your exorcism, demon. Say goodbye.”

Rage filled Charles' face, “You knew!?”

Aiden smirked, “Sorry to ruin the surprise.”

Charles growled, “Well, I have a surprise of my own,” he stepped forward, “because the salt myth is absolute bull-” As he stepped to the rim of the circle, a bright white light flashed out of the ground and threw him back onto the concrete.

“Well, I'll be damned!” Dr. Finch and Abiah came out of their hiding spots and took positions around the circle. Abiah lit bundles of sage and passed one to Aiden and one to Dr. Finch, who had started placing candles around the scene. With her stick of sage, Abiah began tracing runes in the air.

Dr. Finch, having lit the candles, picked up Summoning Spirits and Magical Evocation. The paperback formed the core of their planned exorcism. The rite's centerpiece was a Latin spell, which Dr. Finch began reciting.

The Charles-thing on the ground stirred, and Aiden and Abiah took up the chant. For all Dr. Finch's inexplicably strong hate of the Latin, it looked to be working. History professors, Aiden thought, chanting louder.

“What- what are you doing? This is bullshit! This won't work and you-”

Charles doubled over in pain as the trio outside chanted louder.

“You cannot banish me!” The howl issued forth from the bowels of hell itself, “I am eternal! I am older than the dawn, and I will outlast this frail world!” The face contorted into an inhuman mask of pain. “I'll flay your flesh from your bones! I'll drink the blood of your dearest loves and feast on their rotting corpses!”

Undeterred, Aiden, Abiah and Dr. Finch chanted louder and faster, the rhythm of their words mirroring Charles' screams of pain.

As they reached a crescendo, Charles turned his head and caught sight of Abiah. A fury unlike any ever known before crossed his face as he shrieked, “Traitor!” Giving out a final, bloodcurdling roar, Charles arched up off the ground in a rictus of agony. Then, in a flash of blinding light, he slumped to the ground, and the screaming stopped.

“Get him out of there!” Abiah yelled to Aiden. 

Dropping the sage, he stepped over the salt line and picked the prone form off of the concrete, carrying him away to safety.

The body gave the slightest twitch as they passed out of the circle. Aiden laid him down carefully on a nearby bench and Abiah rushed to his side.

“Come on, come back to us,” she whispered as she sprinkled purifying herbs over the limp boy, “come on, Charles.”

The eyelids gave a brief flicker.

“Charles?”

The chest rose suddenly in a sharp gasp of air, followed by machine-gun coughing. He sat up and leaned over, frame wracked by lung spasms.

“Charles?”

He quieted and, taking a deep breath, looked up, “Call me Chuck.”

“FREEZE!”

Reflexively, Aiden threw his hands up. Behind him, a voice commanded, “Turn around!”

Aiden obeyed to find a pair of campus police staring at him, stun guns drawn. Behind them, Khalid sprinted in, “That's them, officers!”

“Alright now; which one of you is Aiden Teague?”

“I am.” His voice came out in a squeak.

“Are you alright son? Are you hurt?”

“What?”

“We got a call from your RA saying that you were fleeing from an attack. Is that true?”

Holy shit. “N-no officer. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Then how did you get those bruises on your neck?”

Aiden, unaware of the already darkening handprint pressed into his neck, floundered for a lie. “Um...”

“And you,” the officer aimed at Chuck, “what happened to your nose?”

True enough, Aiden's punch had sent a torrent of blood down Chuck's face and neck. Aiden panicked. Oh shit, this looks bad-

“Officers, we were fighting, but I think Aiden will agree with me that we've sorted out our issues, and we won't be pressing charges.”

Aiden turned his head and caught a meaningful glance from Chuck. “Yes. I won't be pressing charges.”

The first policeman cocked an eyebrow, “Son, are you really sur-”

“Yes.” Aiden nodded. “I'm absolutely sure. We had our differences, but we're fine now.”

Khalid interjected, “But, Aiden, I saw you running out of your room and-”

“Khalid,” Aiden interrupted, “thank you for being worried about me, but I swear to you, I'm fine. We're fine. Chuck and I got in a fight, but we're fine now.”

The policemen lowered their stun guns reluctantly, “Well, if you say there's now incident here, there's not much we can do.”

“Thank you, sirs. I'm very sorry for the mess.”

“Uh huh. And where exactly do these two come in?” The first cop pointed behind Aiden. He turned to see Abiah and Dr. Finch and a patch of concrete with a good deal of scattered salt in no discernible pattern. Aiden sighed gratefully. Dr. Finch must have cleared the circle while they attended to Chuck.

Dr. Finch answered, “My teaching assistant and I came across the altercation. We were trying to mediate.”

“And you are?”

“Dr. Jeanette Finch, and this is Ms. Abiah Collins.”

The first policeman frowned and looked at the second. “What do you think?”

“I think we're done here.”

“Agreed.” He turned to Aiden. “Alright then. Try and keep out of trouble.” As they walked away, Khalid seemed about to say something, but instead threw his hands up and muttered, “Freshmen,” like an epithet. 

As the scene quieted, Aiden collected himself, letting the adrenaline soaked moments of the recent past calm down. Turning, he faced Abiah, Dr. Finch and Chuck. 

“We did it.”

Abiah smiled. “Yes, we did.”

“I've got to say; I'm impressed.” Dr. Finch laughed. “I didn't think it would actually work.”

Chuck piped up, “And for that, I am eternally grateful.” He winced. “Now, not to be a killjoy, but could someone maybe drive me to the hospital? My foot hurts like a motherfucker.”

Abiah gasped, “Omigosh, I'm so sorry!”

Dr. Finch pulled out a set of keys. “We'll take my car. Aiden, Abiah, could you please help Charles?”

“Chuck. It's Chuck. I never want to be called Charles again.”


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 

_Disclaimer : I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, “Blood and Chocolate,” by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn’t mind me writing a story about them. It should also be noted that the locations described in this story are fictionalized versions of real places. The city of La Mesa, NM exists, but it is not the city that I am writing about. Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

 

 

The waiting area at the La Mesa Municipal Hospital Emergency Room was surprisingly pleasant. Aiden lounged on a couch in the corner while Abiah paced nearby. Chuck had been taken to get x-rays, and after the initial physical examination had made him scream like a little girl, Dr. Finch had been cajoled into going along to hold his hand.

Chuck's parents had been called, and were on their way in from Santa Fe.

“I'll bet they have a lot to talk about.”

“What?”

Aiden didn't realize that he'd spoken aloud until Abiah responded. “Chuck and his parents. He's been possessed since June; I can only imagine how weird he's been acting.”

“They'll forgive him. Parents usually do.”

“I wonder if his friends will.”

Abiah smiled gently and shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I think they will.”

Looking at Abiah, feeling the comfort her presence always seemed to bring, Aiden didn't want to ask the question burning on his tongue. Better to let it go and pretend nothing had happened. But, some more honest part of himself realized that he had to know.

“Abiah...” he sighed, “what did Ch-the demon,” he corrected himself, “mean when he said,'Traitor'?” Looking up, he saw fear in her eyes the moment before she looked away. A minute passed, and then another, and Aiden thought she wasn't going to answer when;

“Abiah Collins was eight when she was hit by a car while walking home. She suffered massive head trauma, and spent several months in the hospital. Her doctors said she was in a persistent vegetative state, and that she would never recover.

“And then, one morning, she was awake. Everyone said it was a miracle.” Abiah hung her head, “Her parents were so happy.”

Sighing deeply, she looked up, “After all of this; after everything that happened today, I know what you must be thinking of me-”

“Abiah-”

“-but I've never taken over someone who wasn't already gone; I'm nothing like him-”

“I know.”

Taken aback, she asked, “You know?”

Aiden nodded. “Of course. Abiah, whatever else you may be, you're a good person.”

Abiah smiled, “Thank you.”

“Besides,” Aiden cracked a sarcastic smile, “being called a traitor by that demon can only mean good things.”

Abiah laughed, and Aiden joined her.

As they quieted, Aiden slouched farther into the couch, “So,” he began conversationally, “What's your real name?”

Abiah shook her head, “Don't have one.”

“What?”

She shrugged, “I wasn't given one.”

“Okay, then who are your parents?”

Abiah chuckled, “Don't have them either.”

“Really? Alright, how old are you?”

Smiling, she answered, “One, that's not polite to ask a lady. Two, you really don't want to know.”

Aiden laughed, and in that moment a curious wonder overtook him. I really am okay with this. A year ago, hell, a month ago, meeting the supernatural would have sent me screaming into the night, but here I am, joking about it. His face grew wistful with remembering. Yes... a lot has changed.

 

 

Vivian,

I know you probably never wanted to hear from me again. Hell, you probably hope that I died in a fire.

Backspace.

This may be the unwelcomest email anyone's ever sent, but I hope you'll hear me out.

Backspace.

I want you to know how truly sorry I am for what I did and how I acted. I know now truly how much of a dick I was.

Backspace.

I'm sorry. What I did to you was horrible and unforgivable. I've done a lot of growing, and I've been through a lot of really unbelievable crap since that night, and I'm finally starting to understand how incredibly awful I was to you. I'm so sorry. I hope that, despite the awful things I did that you're having a wonderful life.

Backspace. 

Aiden grimaced and pressed down the backspace key again. Frustrated, he slapped down the screen of his laptop and grabbed his math textbook and notebook. At least he couldn't horrifically screw that up- well, actually he could. However, after two nights ago, his math homework held no terror for him.

Chuck still hadn't come back. They'd left the hospital that night after his parents had arrived and Aiden hadn't seen him since.

Khalid was a different story. Aiden seemed to be bumping into him constantly. Every time, awkwardness was rife in the air. A brief remorse washed over him; he hadn't known Khalid long, but if the easy camaraderie between them was over, then Aiden would really miss it.

Sighing, he flipped open his textbook to a pre-calculus 'review' that was more or less news to him. When the hell was he supposed to have learned about logarithms?

Twenty minutes later, Aiden had sunk into a stupor, eyes blindly gazing over the symbols on the page, registering nothing. He'd have fallen asleep about five minutes in except that he was fighting the need to empty his bladder. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, so he grabbed his keys and dashed out the door.

Relieved, Aiden walked through the door, ready to attack his math homework, but a darkly tanned, utilikilt wearing body was in the way.

“Oh, hi Aiden!” Chuck stepped out of the way, allowing Aiden to pass. “I was just checking out the room; sorry about the setup. I'll get my stuff rearranged as soon as I can ditch the boot.” He gestured with the heavy black shell protecting his broken foot.

“No, it's not a problem. I actually really wanted to say sorry for breaking-”

Chuck laughed, “You're not seriously apologizing for my foot, are you? Because between the bruise on your neck and the fact that I kinda tried to kill you, I seriously think we're even.”

Aiden smiled, “Well, what about your nose?”

“Still not worse than attempted murder.” Chuck grinned, then dropped into a more serious demeanor. “I don't think I got the chance earlier, but I want to thank you for everything.”

“Chuck-”

“No, I mean it. You can't imagine what it was like, being stuck in my own skin, helpless, seeing everything and not able to do anything. I'd still be in there if you hadn't risked your ass to help me.”

Aiden looked out the window of their tiny garret and sighed. The day was stunningly beautiful, sky holding the brightest blue he'd ever seen. This place was strange to him, but for better or worse, it was home now.

“Do you want to get a smoothie?”

Chuck cocked an eyebrow, “What?”

“The cafeteria's still open, and they've got a smoothie bar today. I was thinking we could head down, get a snack, maybe study, and maybe start over, roommate wise.”

Chuck smiled. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Alright.” Aiden grabbed his wallet and calc textbook and followed Chuck out the door. “So, any other surprises for me?”

“Um, well, I'm gay.”

Aiden shrugged, “I'm okay with gay.”

Chuck laughed, “Do you have any secrets I should know about?”

Aiden frowned, considering, “Well... last year, I met this girl, Vivian...”

 

And they walked down the hallway of their dormitory, past enemies, current strangers, future friends.


End file.
